death is absence of thought - zen how can we be afraid of something we cannot live to experience? it’s life that is frightening

GRAVE POEM: EDITH MUDGET… How is it that I, who kept my hou… And, indeed, my life, and the live… Of my family, in perfect order; I, who made the beds before they w…

the sum of the estate: pictures newspaper clippings poems the memories

through the sea smoke’s shimmering… where the Passamaquoddy flows the pulsing heartbeat of the strob… in my footsteps, crunching snow through the whirling, wind-blown f…

see them standing in glass houses clutching stones of fear anxiety suits and shoes boots and jeans makeup and hair powdered and perfumed

Nature’s snowy gown Melts into a silky pool Spring’s passion awakes

Suppose you was 18 years old And never had a single thing In all your life to call yours alo… Except your body and your face? And suppose you went to work

she watches him as if the fault were in her eyes poor shorn Sampson withered hands grip the canes that barely hold the frail reflect…

Now that love has died Only silence remains between Two lonely people

Tide tickling sun’s wake Under a thin skin of ice Beach disappearing

Early morning mist Loon fishing quiet water Shining wake behind

surf and turf of St. Andrews olde salts and bullshit under one blue tarp gossip thick as molasses sparks quick as match-lit gas

Seagulls hovering Uneven hills encircle Tide pool reflection

I am a rock on the shore of the magnificent ocean millions of years by the magnificent ocean and millions more